


Heart Attack

by kwunkwun



Category: EXILE (JPOP), Sandaime J Soul Brothers, sjsb
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Pining, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love maybe?, sign me the fuck up, translated fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9841952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: Something has been agonizing Hiroomi.Ryuji –his fellow band member, partner, and so-called ‘soul mate’-tends to get drunk easily as of late.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Heart Attack](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/266354) by Sayuki. 



> This work has been inspired by the 2016.3.30, No. 1997 special interview with Ryuji and Omi in An An magazine. Please refer to the interview here: http://adzuki-caramel.tumblr.com/post/141537989871/banira-san-imaichi-ryuji-tosaka-hiroomi-in  
> Because the love is real, ok  
> {these are half the translator's notes as well as the original author's, lmfao}  
> {thank you so much for letting me mess around with this gem and I hope it reads okay!}

Something has been agonizing Hiroomi.

Ryuji –his fellow band member, partner, and so-called ‘soul mate’-tends to get drunk easily as of late.

This isn’t headline news: their party is known for being rather generous when it came to drinking. He has seen way too many of these ‘stars’ getting drunk off their faces in private so this really is nothing new.

But, it’s different because it’s him. Ryuji.

The way he thinks about Ryuji, beyond being teammates, is a little special.

He likes Ryuji.

Hiroomi sighed, and turned to get back to the ktv booth. It’s a routine get-together at the bar and the after party is just reaching its high point –everyone has a little too much alcohol in their system. Confident as he is about his tolerance, he can’t deny that he too is feeling a bit light headed.

As per the rules, the vocals aren’t allowed to sing. Hiroomi grabs the fruit plate, plonks down in a corner, and readies himself to watch Kenjiro and Takanori’s classic rendition of _Kiss You Tonight_.

 _Pat._ He feels a sudden weight on his shoulder and when he turns to look, Hiroomi has to hold back another sigh.

Of course it’s Ryuji.

It looks like he has downed a few: his wet eyes are glittering, and he is dyed with pink from his ears to the tip of his nose. With one hand lifting a wineglass and another wound around his shoulder, Ryuji tilts his head to the side, calling his name in an unsteady murmur, “Omi.”

Hiroomi’s heart did a catapult.

And this is what he’s been agonizing over: lately, when Ryuji gets drunk, he likes to play coy.

Flirting isn’t even in Ryuji’s character, but it’s as if he had flicked off some self-control button to let himself climb all over him whenever he’s had one too many.

Even though he’s far from being an inexperienced teenager, Hiroomi finds no viable way of responding to Ryuji’s teasing.

Ryuji looks unimpressed by his woolgathering, and he shuffles forward, close to falling right into his lap. He feels Ryuji’s heated breath on face as he murmurs, “Omi, won’t you hang out with me, Omi?”

He puts one arm around Ryuji’s shoulder to stop him from toppling over, and with the other reaches for his glass, saying weakly, “Ryuji, you’re smashed. Don’t drink any more. Do you want some water?”

Ryuji frowns, like he’s giving it his all to unmush his brain in order to process his words. And then he says in a huff, “I’m not drunk! Don’t underestimate me, Omi!” Ryuji glares at him, but as usual even when he’s mad his expression has zilch attack power. Moreover, his lips have taken on a delectable red sheen because of the wine, and his round eyes are gleaming under the scant light. As if he’s trying to prove his point Ryuji extends an arm to retrieve the glass.

Hiroomi doesn’t stop him in time and can only watch Ryuji raise the drink to his own lips, insisting, “Omi drink too!” It’s an utterly defenceless expression, and because of the alcohol, he’s flushed about the cheeks, the ends of his moustache faintly shimmering with sweat. Ryuji pushes the glass forward, looking at him expectantly.

Hiroomi feels his mouth going dry, his tongue going numb. So, so, close. His mind is already flashing warning signals but it feels far too good like this, and so he forgets to push Ryuji away.

And then it’s like Ryuji’s gotten fed up with waiting: he takes a mouthful of the wine, pushes himself up towards Hiroomi’s face, and feeds him the alcohol a little clumsily.

It’s like an iceberg rupturing, a volcano going off, or maybe it’s the end of the world and the extinction of the human race.

Hiroomi only feels his warm lips graze over his, and then the soft tip of his tongue touching his teeth. He forgets to swallow and the wine in his mouth starts to seep out from the corner of his mouth. He ignores all of this. In his eyes there is only Ryuji’s smile, which ignites his face with indescribable allure.

“Does it taste good, Omi?” Ryuji asks.

He doesn’t want to answer. Besides, Kenjiro and Iwata are busy making out –it’s the special event after _Kiss You Tonight._ The three left over are caught up with egging them on and nobody has eyes for what’s happening in the corner.

Ryuji’s still waiting for his response with his eyes twinkling and head tilted back, like he has no idea how he’s feeling like a boat or maybe a fucking cargo ship has just turned over inside his chest. He even goes as far as reaching out to pinch his cheek.

 _Snap._ He can hear the restraint break in half inside his brain. He’s had enough.

Hiroomi does a backhand and grabs Ryuji by the arms, leaning in and going straight for his mouth. Ryuji seems to be slow on the uptake, and he takes the chance to pry Ryuji’s lips apart, flicking over the roof of his mouth and then wrestling with his tongue. His cradles the back of Ryuji’s head, and he hears nothing; his nerves are all focussed on fucking Ryuji’s mouth with his own, entwining their tongues, and he’s tasting him like a madman, refusing to give Ryuji any space to breathe.

Ryuji issues a soft whimper, and Hiroomi comes to his senses. He lets Ryuji go, like all his courage has flown out the window in an instant. Helplessly he stands, and his shin collides with the coffee table with a loud thunk, but he hardly notices. He can only watch Ryuji wipe away the spit that he doesn’t manage to swallow in time as he calls a little hesitantly, “Omi…”

He hates it, how he’s unable to control how he feels. No matter how many times he warns himself, it’s only a straight road to disaster. He’s afraid of attracting his teammates’ anxiety, and more than that… he’s afraid of Ryuji looking at him like he’s something despicable. And all of this is just on the horizon.

Quietly he says to Ryuji, “I’m sorry.” And as if he has no strength left to bear with the atmosphere inside this little ktv box, he turns, and runs.


End file.
